Missy Sue – Thanks for the awesome review! Well, here are some answers to your questions! But, there are still questions left to answer!
Meadowlark – Wow! Thank you. I am very flattered you think so highly of this coupling! Dizi Jenny? I will have to look that fic up some time! I love to read NC fic as much as I like to write it!
Webby – As always, I am most grateful to you and your red beta sword! Without it, we'd be lost in a sea of commas and incorrect grammar! And Brezel? Well you ought to love her nickname! ;-) (btw – Webbs is my beta and the writer of very entertaining NC fic herself!)
X-nerd - "That horrible little swine" - I LOVE it. And, yup he certainly is. But he didn't get his way this time! Please – all that praise is going to give me a swelled head. LOL. But I won't turn down more reviews! Haha!
Yzak – Adamantium claws on the roof? Please! That poor old church has enough repair work to be done!! Besides, the way Logan feels about her – he might have just kicked her off the edge! LOL!
Daniel charged after Gammon in a fury as their footsteps echoed crazily in the hallways. He lost Ben around a corner and stopped short as the hallway dead ended into a T intersection. But before he could debate which direction to run, Logan rushed past him at a full sprint.
"This way!" the feral ordered and charged to the left. The pair turned the last corner to see an exit door slamming shut. They threatened to break the door off its hinges as the two bounded out after their fugitive.
Jumping in his car, Ben locked the doors and turned over the ignition. Daniel grabbed the door handle and pulled on it in vain, banging on the window.
Wolverine stopped in front of the BMW as it started to scream to life. With a smirk, his claws sprang forth and dove into the flimsy metal hood protecting the engine block. The car shrieked like a living thing as the X-man gutted it. Several swipes of his lethal claws and the car sputtered and coughed, then fell silent. Coming around the side, he pushed a stunned Daniel aside. "'Scuse me, Bub," he offered and with little effort, the metal-sheathed claws ripped the driver's side door into ribbons as easily as they had torn apart the engine block.
He yanked Ben out of the seat and rammed his back against the mangled door frame. "Goin' somewhere?!" he snarled.
Ben's adrenaline was pumping madly as he landed a solid square punch on Wolverine's jaw only to watch him shake it off like a lover's slap. "You're freaks!" he yelled, struggling to get free. "All of you! Nothing but freaks!" He turned his wild eyes to the tall red head who'd been Rachel's friend through so much. "You know Rachel married that blue furred abomination?? She let it get her pregnant??" He spat at Daniel. His spying had revealed that Daniel was no more a friend of mutants than he was.
"You talk too much." Logan growled and returned the punch. Immediately, Ben fell limp. Hoisting him over his shoulder, Wolverine pulled out his X-comm and called the Elf to let him know the good news.
Daniel was not able to focus on the conversation as his mind kept replaying Ben's furious tirade about Rachel. He was still oblivious to anything going on around him when Logan's voice shook him back to the present. "Rachel's took a pretty bad knock on the head. Kurt's going to take your car and get her home where we can check her out. We're takin' Gammon with us till we can figure out what to do with him. You can either call a cab and go home or come with us in the jet. Your choice, but I imagine Rachel would be glad to see a friendly face." He turned and hefted Ben's dead weight around on his shoulder and called Storm to arrange a pick up.
Daniel stood quiet and stiff as anger drew a deepening scowl on his face.
Rachel wanted to burst into tears at this scene. She was absolutely sure the good father was about to go into hysterics. Stepping forward, she tried her best to do damage control.
"Father, please don't panic." she begged, stepping in front of Kurt. "He's not - he's not a demon; he's just a mutant. Please..." She clasped her hands in front of her, almost a plea to Father O'Toole to believe her.
Gently, but firmly, the mutant pulled her from in front of him and put her back to his side. Kurt refused to hide behind his wife's skirts. He'd been hated and feared on sight all his life. It was difficult, but it was his lot in life. One, unfortunately, Rachel had to share with him as his wife and the mother of his children. Standing motionless, he watched the priest approach; he knew he was less frightening if he let others approach him.
Father O'Toole slowly closed the space between them. Once close enough, he held out Rachel's coat to her. She took it with a quiet "Thank you," as Nathaniel looked Kurt up and down. With a small, unexpected smile, he finally spoke. "That is a beautiful crucifix, son." He motioned to the shining emblem of Gracie's love that hung around Kurt's neck.
Out of reflex, Kurt's unique fingers touched it. For the first time, he was glad it constantly worked its way out of his shirts and uniform. "Danke, Vater," he whispered with cautious hope.
From far below, the sounds on a choir drifted up to them. A beautiful hymn telling the story of Christ's birth filled the silence around the trio.
Father O'Toole motioned over his shoulder. "That's my cue." His small smile grew into a grin. As he turned back towards the door, he stopped and turned another warm smile back on the couple. "If you change your mind about joining us for Mass, you are both welcome to stay." Without any further explanation or cajoling, he opened the door and slipped back downstairs.
For a long moment, the two stood in stunned silence at Father O'Toole's unbiased acceptance of Kurt. Rachel turned to her husband and reached up to run a light finger over the crucifix that had been his first Father's Day present. She smiled against the tears that were springing forth in her eyes. In response, Kurt took her hand in his and smiled as he kissed it.
"Merry Christmas, Brezel," he smiled, then stopped still as his finger glided across a smooth metallic texture on her hand. His breath froze in his throat as he looked down and found her wedding ring on her finger, proudly gleaming up at him.
"Merry Christmas, Blue." Rachel let a tear escape as she smiled at Kurt's expression. She rubbed the underside of the band with her thumb and relished in the comforting feel of it back in it's proper place.
She gasped out loud as he suddenly swooped her up in a fierce hug. "Meine Ehefrau" she heard him whisper with profound and intense emotion.
"Mein Ehemann," she whispered back one of the few German words she'd ever managed to learn as she wrapped her arms around him tenaciously. Feeling him tighten his hold on her even more, she grinned like a giddy school girl as more happy tears slipped down her cheeks. Pressing her face into the crook of his neck, she laughed for joy.
Finally, they stepped apart and looked to the door, holding their hands together. Rachel sniffled and brushed away any remaining tears with the back of her free hand. But, when she took a step forward, she swayed dangerously and the room began to spin. Her hand went to her head as the knot under her scalp started throbbing in time with her pulse again. She felt a wave of pain induced nausea wash over her.
"Liebe!" Kurt cried out as he caught her. He pushed her hand away from her forehead and tried to examine that contusion. "I need more light," he growled, frustrated with his limited abilities. He led her out onto the landing of the stairs where the bright fluorescent lights made Rachel wince.
"Blue, I'm fine. It's just a little bump; it's nothing," she insisted. Nonetheless, she still clung to him, partly for support, partly for comfort. "Mass is starting..." Her voice seemed too far away to her ears.
But Kurt would not be dissuaded. "Nein, Rachel. You might have a concussion. We need to get you back to the mansion so you can be examined." Before she could object again, he had an arm around her, leading her down the stairs. "We can come here to Mass another time. Perhaps when there are fewer people." It was wonderful to the point of tears that the Father had been kind enough to invite him to worship, but most in his parish probably would not share his open-mindedness.
Managing to avoid prying eyes, they made it back to Father O'Toole's office unseen. Once there, Rachel handed Kurt his coat and put hers back on. She gathered up her purse reluctantly.
"I really think you're overreacting, Kurt." She had to try at least one last time, but her Blue would not be dissuaded.
"You will be fine once Jean or Doktor McCoy say you are fine." His tone was soft, but firm. He was about to speak again when his X-comm beeped. His pulse picked up and his tail whipped around as he identified the signal. "Ja?"
"We got 'im, Elf." Wolverine's voice was fierce and proud.
Rachel felt herself beginning to tremble, the night's events starting to overwhelm her. She sat down on the sofa as her legs discreetly gave out. She could hear Kurt and Logan talking. She assumed they were discussing Ben and what to do with him, but the pounding in her head was drowning them out. She didn't even hear Kurt the first time he called her name, only turning her head towards him when she felt his hand on her arm.
"Liebe, Logan and Daniel are going to deal with Ben for the moment. We are going to take Daniel's car back to the mansion." He helped her to her feet. "Let's go, Meine Schatz."
Rachel shook her head, despite the pain and dizziness it brought her. "Not yet." She insisted, gritting her teeth and forcing herself to focus. She pulled the scarf away from Kurt's neck, revealing the inhibitor collar tight around his throat. She laid her fingers on it and stared at the offensvie piece of technology with blatant anger. "First we have to get this damn thing off."
When Kurt steered Daniel's white Jaguar into Rachel's garage, they found both the Audi and Bentley sitting exactly as they had been left. A call to Storm revealed that Beast had made headway against Ben's computer, but he was likely to be there for awhile yet, hacking through the intricate and brilliantly mastered systems. She had retrieved Daniel and Logan, along with an unconcious Ben Gammon, in the Blackbird They would all be waiting for Kurt and Rachel at the mansion.
The couple stood, face to face, in the quiet of Rachel's apartment. Kurt had tossed her bags in the back of Jaguar, except for her briefcase which she was now clenching in her hand. With a look of concern, the furred German frowned at her. "Brezel, what's so important in here?"
"Brezel? You're just not going to let that go, are you?" She half laughed at her newly reclaimed nick name. She took a step away and set the leather briefcase on the kitchen's gleaming, high grade marble counter top, then flipped open the lid with her thumbs.
Kurt moved closer behind her, putting his hands on her hips as he leaned over her shoulder. "Are you ever going to let go of 'Blue'?" he whispered in a mild joke. She had called him 'Blue' from the time he was five years old.
Rachel turned around slowly and looked up at him with dark, solemn eyes. Reaching up, she cupped her husband's cheek and shook her head. "Never again."
His grin evolved into a warm intensity as leaned into her touch. After a moment, he took her hand in his, studying it as if he could read their future in it. Finally, he planted a soft kiss in her palm.
Squeezing her fingers around his hand, she gave a nervous sigh and turned back to her briefcase. She took the small brightly wrapped package, the one Tracy had retrieved for her out of the briefcase. Staring at it for a moment, she ripped the green foil paper off and opened the box. "Let's get that thing off." she ordered, pointing to the collar in disgust.
Kurt frowned again, "How?" Hank's inspection of it had left them a little leery of trying to remove it without in depth study.
Rachel drew out a vial and syringe from the gift box. "How much are you weighing now a days, Blue?" Her hands trembled uselessly as she clenched them in frustration.
"About 180 – why?" His tone turned suspicious as he eyed the needle. He released Rachel and took a step back.
"Because there is nothing Ben Gammon can do that I can't undo." She set her jaw firmly as she handed him the vial and syringe. "Measure out 5 cc's of this."
Ben Gammon looked as though he had 'fallen down' a few times, Ororo mused as Logan dragged the man's limp form onto the jet and tossed him onto the benches in the back. He took a sentry position nearby just in case the Gammon came to during the flight. Daniel followed behind them, a dark expression marring his brow. The African beauty frowned at his countenance, wondering what could be going on behind those blue eyes.
Daniel was silent as he strapped into the seat next to Storm and got ready for take off. It wasn't until they had been in the air several minutes that he finally inquired to Ororo, "How's Rachel?"
"She's fine. She's with Kurt; they are going to meet us at the school and bring your car." The jet made a graceful bank as it slipped through the night sky towards home. She studied him for a moment. His expression was difficult to read now. His jaw was set in a firm line, his eyes hard and dark. Yet, there was a weariness playing on his features. As if he was at war with himself. She reached out and laid a gentle hand on his forearm. "Everything is all right now."
Daniel swallowed hard and shook his head. "No, it's not."
27 lay on her bunk, staring at the rough cement ceiling far above her head. She swallowed the urge to vomit for the hundredth time that day. She had barely been given a chance to recover from the near fatal miscarriage she'd had, before being impregnated again. So far, this one seemed to be going 'well'. Two months into gestation, tests showed things were going swimmingly.
Turning her head, she stared at the uneaten meal they had brought to her. Sitting up, she forced herself to uncover the metal food tray and immediately lost her battle with nausea. She leaned over the edge of her bunk as the smell caused her to retch up the precious little that had been in her stomach. After several minutes, she dragged herself upright and wiped off her mouth with the paper napkin that had been provided for her current meal. Slowly, she edged up to the tray sitting on a small stand in front of her. With a hopeless expression, she picked up her spoon and began to eat. They weren't allowed forks here, knives either for that matter. Partly because they might turn them into weapons. Partly because the suicide rate had tapered off dramatically once they were removed. She stared down at the metal utensil, ladened with what she assumed was a potato soup of some kind. She went through her mantra again.
My name in Maggie. I lived in Florida. My mother's name is...
She stopped, a tear sliding down her cheek. They'd taken that too. She couldn't remember her mother's name now. She had already forgotten the street they lived on and the town she'd grown up in. Now, she couldn't even remember her own mother's name.
Dropping the spoon back in the bowl, she pushed it away and rolled over and her bunk, facing the wall. Idly, she wondered how long it might take to starve to death in a place like this. But she knew that wasn't going to happen – not so long as she was useful. She put her hand down on the unwanted abomination in her belly. More tears slipped through her tightly shut eyes. They had taken her life - but they wouldn't let her die.